


One of the two of us is going to have to stop running

by orochisInebriation (asterCrash)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7175741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/orochisInebriation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terezi had gotten comfortable with her law enforcement career, until it was her best friend in the interrogation room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of the two of us is going to have to stop running

“Was any of it true?” You draw your gun on her and at long last she stops walking away from you. “Was a single word in the last three months actually true or have you just been fucking with me?”

“Terezi, what the hell?!” She’s facing you now, not moving from her spot. “Put that thing away before someone sees us.” There isn’t anybody to see you right now, and even if there was they wouldn’t need the gun to recognise the two of you as the nation’s most wanted.

“I need you to tell me, before we go any further,” as if there was any way for you to stop the broken rollercoaster she’s made of your life, “I need to believe you or I’m turning us both in.”

“I didn’t kill that guy!” That _guy_ , that fucking _senator_ she’d been having an affair with. “We’ve been over this, it wasn’t me, I was in a bar that night!”

“You said you were _home_ ,” your voice is strained, you’ve been running too long, on too little sleep and you don’t know if you could shoot straight if you tried, but she’s only ten feet in front of you. You wouldn’t need to shoot straight to make it count.

“Okay, yeah, I said that in the fucking holding cell with the cameras on, I didn’t want them coming after my people.”

The gun goes off, pointed high into the air before you point it back at Vriska. “You mean your _gang_ ,” you shout, no point in being quiet after that.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she shouts back.

“Tell me the truth!” The shouting match doesn’t stop from getting louder.

“I already did!” She takes a step to closer. Your grip on the pistol tightens. “I didn’t fucking kill that guy! His dumb wife wants to set me up or something, I thought you believed me!” You did believe her. It had been so long and she was still the same old Vriska, but you’d believed her. “Look at you still being a psycho about it, I thought we were _free!_ ”

“I was already free!” You had a husband. You had a good career. You were respected. And then Vriska came back into your life.

She doesn’t question why you came, she knows exactly why you broke her out. She knew before any of this started that you couldn’t resist her. That you’d get sucked right back into her no matter how long you’d been apart. “I thought we were friends!” She insists as if friends had ever been an accurate description for you. Rivals. Occasional lovers. Comfort. Pain. You’d been a thousand things but friends had never covered it.

“I thought you were innocent,” you let your voice drop back down, the silence between you growing in the cool early morning air.

To your left the dam drops away, hundreds of feet of clean white stone before the rushing water below. To your right, an empty road and beyond it a forest. Enough to get lost in. Ahead of you, Vriska, looking offended, looking hurt, looking at you. Behind you, regret.

“I thought you believed me,” she repeats, softly. Her eyes are so blue, and you wish you could say they remind you of your oh-so-distant husband but that’s not true. His always reminded you of her.

“I want to, Vriska, god dammit I want to.” You don’t drop the gun, still pointed right at her heart. 

“How is this any different from old times? You used to _trust_ me.” Old times meaning the two of you wrecking up town, not caring who you pissed off, not caring for rules as long as justice was done. As long as people deserved it. Back then you might have been willing to say the senator deserved it, taking money under the table, embezzling campaign funds, all the stuff that was hitting the papers following his death.

“I thought I did,” you growl. You trusted her to be Vriska Serket, that was different from trusting her to tell the truth. It had all made sense though. A conspiracy to murder, and poor Vriska in the wrong place at the wrong time. The evidence was circumstantial against her but the motive was elsewhere. Or so you had thought.

“I thought you wanted to be with me again,” she pouts, as if she didn’t know you always hated that.

“This isn’t about _us_ ,” you hiss at her, “this is about _justice_.”

“Why do we even need to clear my name?” She misses the point completely. “I was doing a pretty good job living off the books before this whole mess got started. We could go to Mexico! You speak Spanish.”

“I speak _Portuguese_ ,” you correct her, and drop the gun to your side because this is far too ridiculous a conversation to be having at gunpoint. “And I want to go home.” To your husband. To your daughter. John’s a nice kind of dork, but you don’t trust him to raise a teenage Pyrope while you go gallivanting off.

“We’ll go to Brazil then, see? Problem solved! Boy are you lucky you have me along, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being on the run, would you?” She takes a cautious step in towards you. Your pistol still isn’t holstered but she’s pretty confident she’s won this argument.

“We are going to clear your name,” you correct her. “And then I am going to turn myself in for what I presume is going to be a long stay in a psychological facility.”

“Sure, sure,” she takes another step in towards you. “But after breakfast, right? There’s a great waffle place in this town where nobody looks at anyone else.”

“I would like some waffles,” you admit.

“See? And then we’ll just need to borrow,” she means steal, “someone’s car and we can drive out to that lake house I told you about. I bet if there’s any evidence that whatshername had him killed it’ll be there.” She takes another step in and now you’re right up against each other. She picks up your gun hand by the wrist, holding it between the two of you. You can read the service number and it looks like those neatly printed digits are all that’s left of the ordered world you’d built for yourself in her absence. “Trust me?”

Her teeth glint with the sunlight glowing over the horizon, all fangs yet so magnetic. You let yourself be kissed, or maybe you kiss her first, there is no court stenographer to set the record straight on this one. You throw your service pistol over the edge of the dam and watch it clatter all the way down into the rushing water below.

“Yeah,” you say, “I trust you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am inordinately pleased that I stopped myself from trying to make a full novel of this.


End file.
